All Kinds of Healing
by RagnarokSkurai
Summary: David and Christopher sleep together. Denial and angst ensue.
1. Coffee

Christopher/David slash. David and Christopher sleep together, and have to sort through the aftermath. With lots of denial. This is going to be a long, angsty story so everyone hold on for the ride! And no, I have nothing against Jalil. I just can't write him, damn it! It's like pulling teeth and chewing on them. Gives me a headache. (Not that I've ever pulled teeth and chewed on them, mind you, it just sounds painful) One of these days I'll write a Jalil-fic, I swear. The problem is that day is just not today.  
  
Disclaimer: Oops. Tend to forget this. Everworld and all it's characters are not mine. 'Nuff said.  
  
Duck K – Sorry, but I have to say no. I'm a kept woman. You understand. *wink*  
  
Kay – This chappies for you. Next one's for EC, I promise!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I slept with David Levin.  
  
Like most other horrible mistakes of the same caliber, it involved alcohol. Lots of it. Still, I'm not sure exactly why it happened. It had a lot to do with the beer (and ale – was there ale?), yeah, I'll admit that. We were drunk. Were we *ever* drunk. That lovely, lovely kind of drunk where you feel like holding onto the floor once you've fallen. You know what I'm talking about. So. Right. Seriously drunk. Apparently way too drunk to really think about what we were doing. Because – let's face it- sleeping with David was NOT a good idea.  
  
April, Jalil, David, and me were this matched set, right? All old worlders. We kept each other (fairly) sane. And David . . . David was my friend. So sleeping with him was a stupid decision in the same way that sleeping with April would have been a stupid decision. Sex with a friend isn't one of those things you can just pretend never happened. Or pretend it won't change things. Because things between David and I did change.  
  
I don't remember that night very well. The dark tavern, ordering our drinks, the serving girl whose shirt front was cut so low I'm surprised she didn't fall out, the guy with one eye in the back corner. Then the house. Hazy flashes of lips and hands, me pulling off David's shirt, falling clumsily onto the bed. Seeing a scar on his back that may or may not have been there before. A husky laugh that I'd definitely never heard from him before but wouldn't mind hearing again. I'm sure you get the picture. Or at least you're getting pieces of the picture, and I really hope you can figure out what that picture is from the pieces. Whoa. That seemed too nursery rhyme. In a 'Peter picked a peck of whatever' kind of way.  
  
Here I am, slowly returning to the land of the conscious, hindered by a hangover of epic proportions, and I notice nobody is lying on the bed beside me. So I'm thinking, here we go again with the weird dreams, but wait! David's by the door. By the door as in 'leaving'. And I'm thinking without the intention of returning, 'cause he looks at me with this god awful – you really have no idea how awful - combination of misery and regret. For like, ten seconds. I don't think I breathed. I know he thought I was still asleep. And then he left. He did leave. I could only assume we were never going to mention it again. Which was a real kick in the ass, since I was in love him.  
  
Oh. Did I forget to mention that? Yeah, I love David. Go figure. Go fricken figure, right? He drives me insane, really he does. So serious and angsty and having to be the hero all the time. How sometimes he can take a joke and sometimes he can't. How he let Senna work her mojo on him for so long. How he can be such a complete, insensitive prick. Pretty much everything about him grates at me, but hey. Maybe that's just what I need. Someone who drives me up a fricken wall.  
  
It's pretty much that moment that I realize exactly what my feelings for David were. I mean, I knew I was heading into the mushy gushy- type area, but love? Didn't get it until that moment. And believe me, a suckier moment I'd yet to see. We'd had sex, fallen asleep in the same bed, woken up in each other's arms... oh wait, no. That could have been a pretty good moment. And that's what really ticks me. The angst icing on the misery cake. I feel like I'm trapped in a soap opera, or Dawson's Creek or something. WTE, where your every viewing pleasure becomes a nightmare.  
  
So David left. What was I really expecting? That he'd tell me he loved me? Eh, I'm a blonde, but I'm not that dumb. The so-called loves of my life have never panned out. Senna, the witch girl who decided I wasn't quite good enough to play beck to her call. That was hormones and pheromones with a side order of magic. Etain, who went off and married another guy (well, dwarf) just when things were actually starting to look up. Etain was like... an infatuation. A really bad crush. I mean, the woman was perfect. The perfect, beautiful elf maiden. I think I wanted her because that's what she seemed like to me. For once, I wanted something perfect. Lord knows nothing in my life ever was before. And then there's David. David who slept with me drunk and ran away the next morning.  
  
I don't know what it is about him. The same things that make me want to kiss him make me want to kill him. Every time he makes a mistake I want to razz him but at the same time I want to tell him not to take everything so seriously. Stop worrying so much. Some things you just need to let go, you know? He worries too much. Gah. And now I'm mooning over him and analyzing his every move like a seventh grade girl with her first crush. Screw it. Bottom line? I love him. And I'm not a hearts and flowers kind of guy, so it goes down like this. I love him. I would die for him. I would go through hell for him, and considering I've seen it, that's a big deal.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Back to David leaving. That's his backside – not thinking about his backside- as he goes out the door. And I do the only thing there is to do under the circumstances. Yup, you guessed it. Go downstairs and get coffee.  
  
April's a wonder. Honestly. Totally, completely, seriously. Don't know what we'd do without her. She runs our house, if you wanna call it that. It's leaning more towards mansion size in my opinion but one really wants my opinion, despite me ramming it down their throats all the time. Athena set us up at this really cool place. Six bedrooms, three floors, and a bathroom that takes up five rooms all by itself. There's like four different bathes. Difficult, horribly unpronounceable names to go along with them too, as well as explanations. Jalil tried to tell me once but I blocked it all out. I'm saving my limited mental storage space for more important things. And yeah, back to April. She runs our house of insanity pretty well. David's status as General gets us whatever we want, not to mention Jalil's inventions are bringing in money up the wazoo. Not that we really need all that much. Hey, did you just *laugh*? I was being serious! Everworld has really taught me to appreciate the small stuff. Bed, food, and beer. Anything after that is like Christmas. Hanukah. Winter Solstice. Whatever floats your religious boat.  
  
So, again, back to April. She runs the house, buys the food, makes sure David remembers to go outside now and then, checks to make sure Jalil hasn't electrocuted himself in his lab. Yells at me when I get drunk, reminds me that corners are not appropriate places to puke, and makes me coffee. Grinds it up herself. And Christ, does this stuff have zing. The Greeks haven't quite gotten around to worrying about caffeine yet, it hits your bloodstream like a two by four to the head. Stuff will put some serious hair on your chest. The woman is a goddess. (Demi- goddess?) April fits in well here and she takes care of us all. I love her. Like a sister. Just to be specific.  
  
I amble down the stairs, not only hungover (very, very hungover) but depressed as well. Crushed. Angsting. In need of a serious caffeine rush.  
  
"Coffee." April wordlessly hands me a cup. One hot mouthful. Two. Three. "Thank you." And do I ever mean those words from the bottom of my heart.  
  
"No problem. You looked like you needed it."  
  
Yes, yes, I needed to be fully awake to completely comprehend how badly I screwed things up between me and David. I sit down on the bench slowly. What was I supposed to be doing today? Oh right. Nothing. The usual.  
  
"Really bad hangover or something?"  
  
"Or something." Big something. Stupid mistake something. Drunken sex something. Stopping that train of thought something.  
  
"Hmm." Great. Now April has that 'I-don't-know-what-is-going-on- around-here-but-I-am-going-to-find-out' face on. I hope she doesn't. Just what we need around here.  
  
"Want anything to eat?"  
  
"Nah." That 'I think a small animal used my mouth for a latrine' feeling doesn't make you want to eat much of anything.  
  
"You sure? Nico went and got peaches this morning."  
  
"Uh...." Nico is the servant/cook that helps April around the house. Technically he's a slave. One of a whole hell of a lot around here. April was totally horrified at first but considering Nico was a gift from Athena we couldn't exactly refuse. Insulting a goddess is NEVER a good idea. Learned that one the hard way. Oh, but peaches. . . one of those good- for-you foods that I actually like. . .  
  
With a grin April sets one down in front of me. "Eat it. You need something in your stomach besides alcohol."  
  
"Thank you Dr. O'Brien."  
  
"You're welcome." To my everlasting embarrassment, she leans over and rumples my hair. I growl at her, basically the only thing I can do this early in the morning. She shall pay. Later.  
  
"I'm going to Petra's. I'll be gone like all day, so if anyone comes looking for me, tell them I'm out, ok?"  
  
"Mhmm." Social butterfly.  
  
"And make sure you eat something else. Athena's coming over, so try not to walk around half-naked."  
  
"Yeah. Might try to molest me again." God, was that ever an experience. Seems Athena can be quite the earthy goddess when she's in the right mood.  
  
April laughs. "You know you liked it."  
  
"Not really," I remark dryly. "Though it was certainly a wake up call."  
  
"I'm sure. I'll see you later." I hear the door close shut as she leaves.  
  
That was a nice little version of suburbia. The Cleavers meet Everworld. It's just... last night...  
  
"David," I whisper, then look around guiltily, wondering if anyone heard that. But no. No one's around to hear. Jalil's in his workshop, reinventing whatever the hell it is this week, and David... he's not here at any rate. Probably in the War Room. His little hideyhole of maps and numbers and strategy.  
  
Now I know what you're thinking. Seems like everyone around here has a purpose except me. And you'd be right. I'm still the Zeppo. The gopher, the oddball. The guy who somehow manages to live through everything despite having no apparent skill except humor. All hail Christopher the Useless.  
  
April is our high class socialite. She entertains and boy can the girl smooze. She can literally ooze compliments when she wants to. Shines that thousand watt smile and gets most guys to agree to just about anything. Jalil is (obviously) the resident genius. Right now he's messing around with trying to invent guns and stuff. Not sure how well that's going. And David. David the General. David, the man who will defeat Ka Anor or the man who will fail all of Everworld. No pressure. That's why we'd been drinking, actually. He'd been strung so tight. . .  
  
And stopping that train of thought *again*. So. What to do today? By now I've had a cup and a half of coffee, a peach, and most of the after affects of last night's alcohol binge is gone. Let's see. The Marketplace. Perfect. I can lose myself for days. But first... bath. Yeah. That's a definite.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
So? What did you think? Christopher seems a bit hyper-active, but I always saw him as a bit oddball so what the hey. Next chapter more angst, more drinking, and more denial. Funness. 


	2. Cheesecake

Aaannnnd.... it's here. Late, but here. Whoo hoo!  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter 2: Athena  
  
The Market was a bust. A catfight between two of the Vestal Virgins knocked over a cart of pottery and pretty much stopped traffic dead. This in turn started a bit of a brawl which, while entertaining, didn't last very long. After that, there was not much of anything to do.  
  
So I headed back to the house. The proper name for it is actually an insularae or something. Another Greco-Roman thing Jalil has despaired of ever teaching me. I weep for my lack of knowledge. Not.  
  
As soon as I reach the house Nico opens it, a little smile upon his face. "Master Loki is in the kitchen."  
  
Oh. Great. "Thanks, Nico." I mean, Loki's on our side now, but it's still hard to be friendly with a guy that wanted you dead at one point. "I'll be in my room." Er, just please tell me you changed the sheets while I was gone...  
  
"Of course, Master Christopher."  
  
"Hey, how many times do I have to tell you? Just Christopher, okay? None of this 'master' stuff." Creeps me out. Big time. Little twelve year old calling you master all the time, you'd be freaked too.  
  
"Of course M- Christopher."  
  
"There you go. That wasn't so difficult, eh?"  
  
I head up the stairs and into the west part of the house. And yeah, it's *that* big. I push open the door to my room cautiously. Did Nico...? Yes. He'd cleaned it all ready. Good. I had memories, I didn't need physical evidence staring me in the face.  
  
Coward. I am, really. I mean, I'm going to have to face him sometime. What difference does it make whether it's now or in a few hours?  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I do not love David Levin. He is my friend. Only my friend. And even then, he's a pain in my ass. He's an egotistical maniac with a hero complex a mile wide. He doesn't mean a thing to me. Not a thing.  
  
"Chris, where were you all day?"  
  
In denial.  
  
"Not here. I did watch two of the Vestal Virgins duke it out next to an oil stall though. Needless to say, that kept me occupied for a while."  
  
April rolls her eyes. "I'll bet. How exactly did that happen?"  
  
"All I saw was the brunette take down the blonde. At that point every male in the place ran over to watch."  
  
"Mhmm."  
  
See? She doesn't believe me. It hurts, really it does...  
  
"What're you and Nico making for dinner?" Lord knows I love the kid, and he tries, really, but 20th century food is a far cry from what he makes. I would *kill* for a burger, smothered in grease and hot off the grill... nachos... twinkies... chips and dip... slobbering here...  
  
"You brutes have a small pig roasting over the fire. I'm having a salad."  
  
"A salad. Good Lord, how do you live with yourself?" Vegetables. Eww.  
  
"Without the blood of innocent animals on my head."  
  
"I prefer it in my stomach, actually."  
  
"Pig."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
And throughout our little conversation, David sits brooding in the back corner, somehow managing to sit in the one spot of shadow in the whole room. Not that that's unusual, mind you. I just wish he'd lighten up once in a while.  
  
Time for a subject change.  
  
"How goes the rediscovery of gunpowder, Dr. Spock?" Subtle, eh?  
  
"Not good," is the gloomy reply. "It wasn't exactly something I ever read up on, you know."  
  
Psh. Like you didn't read about *everything*.  
  
"Don't glare at me. The only thing I know is that there's sulfur in it, and more importantly, goes boom when lit." That covers the basics.  
  
"How scientific of you."  
  
"That's me. I'm a scientific kind of guy."  
  
"I could use your help tomorrow, if you're free."  
  
"Let me check my schedule." Hmmm... "Yeah, I could pencil you in." I only have, oh, let's see... nothing to do. Funness.  
  
"Thank you for gracing me with your presence."  
  
"You're really getting good at that sarcasm thing. Kudos."  
  
Then he mumbles something under his breath that sounded like 'imbecile', but he's smiling, so I won't take too much offense.  
  
"Hey David, you all right?"  
  
Ah, April. Our pseudo-mom.  
  
"You're even quieter than usual today."  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
Yeah. You look it. Well, actually, you do look *fine*, but that's digressing again.  
  
April comes over to lay a hand on his shoulder. "You sure?"  
  
He shrugs, not so much to knock off April's hand but to show he doesn't need it. "Yeah. Just worried about pitching the plan to Athena."  
  
...  
  
...  
  
... Athena?  
  
"Whoa! Rewind and freeze!"  
  
Everyone in the kitchen turns to stare at me.  
  
"Athena's coming over? Tonight?"  
  
Damn April to hell. She's finding all this very amusing.  
  
"Why yes, she is. We invited her to dinner. David has to talk over plans with her."  
  
"Well in that case, there's really no need for me to be here, is there? I'll just head out to the inn down the street, grab a little fried dormouse on the way..." Exit, stage left.  
  
"Oh for Christ's sake, Christopher," Jalil sighs. "She's not going to molest you."  
  
"Tell that to Athena. Hey. Hey! Now I get it! You're using me to soften her up! You bastards! I will not be a willing sacrifice!"  
  
A look of offense crosses April's face, and her green eyes widen and begin to water. "Chris, do you really think so low of us?"  
  
"Yes." Let me make that perfectly clear. "It's true, isn't it?"  
  
"Damn it. I thought that would work."  
  
"It was overdone April. Try to tone it down next time."  
  
"Asshole. Like you know anything about theatre."  
  
A long-suffering sigh. "Christopher, I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this." Jalil stands, and somehow managing to look even more serious than usual, pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket.  
  
"Ah! Paper! Save me!" I begin to run around the table, flailing my hands hysterically. So sue me. I'm a five-year-old underneath the alcoholism, really. And I have to get my kicks somewhere.  
  
"This is a recipe for cheesecake."  
  
I stop dead in the middle of the room. "Cheesecake?"  
  
"Cheesecake."  
  
I see where this is going. "Oh, you really are stooping low today, aren't you?"  
  
"Just manipulating the enemies weak spot." The corner of Jalil's mouth quirks. "The Achille's heel."  
  
Why do I get the feeling something just went over my head?  
  
"You mean my stomach."  
  
"Our original idea was TV, but I don't have time to reinvent that right now." Jalil begins to waft the paper slowly back and forth in front of my face. "You stay for dinner, make nice with Athena, and you can have the recipe. Nico can have some made by tomorrow morning."  
  
Cheesecake. God. I need something to wipe the drool from my mouth. Second time in five minutes. "Just for the record, I resent being used as a bargaining chip."  
  
Jalil smiles. "You'll do it then?"  
  
"For cheesecake, I would have made nice with Ka Anor."  
  
April grabs onto my shoulders and steers me towards the stairs. "She's coming over after the afternoon games."  
  
"Isn't that like, now?"  
  
"Yeah. So get washed up and change into something decent. How about... the plum! That plum color's perfect. It goes great with your skin tone."  
  
"FYI, I have never, and will never, worry about what goes and what does not go with my skin tone."  
  
"Just wear it."  
  
"But..."  
  
"No buts."  
  
"Fine, Mommy. But I'm warning you, if she tries to grab me again things are going to get real ugly real fast."  
  
She rolls her eyes again. "Just flirt a little. It comes to you as naturally as breathing."  
  
"It does?" Do I flirt with anyone?  
  
April grins and winks. "I've seen you work a room with more charm than I ever could."  
  
Oh great. Not only am I Christopher the Useless, I'm Christopher the Bargaining Chip and Christopher the Hopeless Flirt.  
  
"I'm serious Chris. Get going."  
  
"All right, all right. Slave driver." Sometime in the last few minutes, David disappeared again. Fuck.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
It must have been three o'clock before I crawled into bed. Craaaaawled. For a pathetic moment I actually considered having Nico drag me to bed. For a really pathetic moment I considered having him drag me to David's bed. And only partly because it was on the ground floor and not up a flight of stairs. Lord, am I pathetic. Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic. Path- etic.  
  
At least Athena didn't grab me. I think it was more a mental molestation. Ick.  
  
I flop onto the bed face down. Probably going to end up suffocating like this. Oh well. I'll flip over if it becomes too hard to breathe. But the bed is so damn comfy... maybe not.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
I wake up with a crick in my neck and drool all over my pillow. Bleh. Didn't suffocate though, which is a plus. I mean, how stupid a way would that be to die? It's right up there with falling asleep in your cereal and drowning in your milk. For some reason a lot of stupid ways to die involve sleeping. Or being stabbed repeatedly with a blunt object. But the last one could probably get really messy. Blood stains are a bitch to get out of carpet... Shit, more early morning rambling. Morbid morning rambling.  
  
Crap. *And* alliteration. Never a good sign.  
  
Coooooooffeeeeeee...  
  
"You look like shit."  
  
"Finally, truth in advertising." Give me my coffee, damn it. I snatch the precious, *precious* caffeine away from the evil red-haired imp that's sitting at the edge of the table. Oh wait. That's just April.  
  
"Back in the land of the living?"  
  
"Ask again in five minutes."  
  
"What is that?" she screeches suddenly, and I wince. The girl could probably crack glass with that voice. I feel around on my face and...  
  
Oops. Must have missed a spot or two. "Drool."  
  
"How'd you get drool on your forehead?"  
  
"Talent." And a pillow. Ta da!  
  
"I see."  
  
And then she starts slamming around pots while she makes breakfast. Has she no respect for the nearly dead?  
  
"Athena liked David's proposal, by the way."  
  
"Yippy skippy." Watch me jump for joy.  
  
She sighs. "I don't know why I bother talking to you in the morning. I wonder why I bother talking to you at *all* sometimes, but especially in the mornings."  
  
"Because you love me."  
  
"Riiiiight." There goes another one of those damn hair ruffles. "More coffee, Mr. Egomaniac?"  
  
"Please."  
  
Another figure slides blearily into the seat across from mine. David. Whew. There's a morning pick me up for you.  
  
...  
  
Never mind.  
  
"Bad night?" April inquires perkily. I don't know how she does it without being annoying, but she pulls it off.  
  
"Had worse."  
  
I feel the blood rise to my face. Okay, maaaybe it didn't mean anything. I always seem to hear things no one else does, but it still kind of stung.  
  
"You and Christopher both," she continues on blithely.  
  
That's it.  
  
I throw back the rest of my coffee and head for the stairs.  
  
"Yeah. Me and David. That's a laugh."  
  
Two pairs of eyes watch me closely as I head back up to my room.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
"Have time to play psychiatrist today?"  
  
Jalil sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Depends. I'm not up to dealing with your dysfunctional childhood right now."  
  
"How about my dysfunctional adolescence?"  
  
Another sigh. "Sure. Why not?" He waves a hand towards the seat beside him.  
  
"Aren't you supposed to have a recliner or something?" Ouch. The patented 'you-are-an-idiot' glare. It's actually quite amazing how so many blank looks can mean so many things coming from Jalil.  
  
"Just sit Christopher."  
  
"Nice bedside manner."  
  
"That's a different kind of doctor." A third sigh. "Why do you come here to torture me?"  
  
"So someone can be as miserable as I am." Pretty simple reason, actually. Share the wealth and all that.  
  
He sets down his papers and gives me another look. "What's wrong Christopher?"  
  
"Are you up to sorting through the messy aftermath of the quintessential one night stand?"  
  
"Christopher – "  
  
"I know, I know. Bad Christopher. You're going to catch syphilis, or some other horrible venereal disease, blah blah blah. I know. Can we skip that part?"  
  
"Seems we all ready have..."  
  
"Okay, so we were drinking, right? And then I brought them home, and what happened next had better be obvious, and then they were gone when I woke up."  
  
"So...?"  
  
I take a deep breath and fidget unnecessarily. "Weeeellll..." Here's the real kicker.  
  
"Christopher..."  
  
Eep. A Jalil-growl.  
  
"Ithinkimightbeinlovewithsaidpersonnothingseriousbye." I jump out of the chair and head for the door.  
  
And then I'm back in the chair, with Jalil's hand planted firmly on my chest. Damn it. He's a quick one, sometimes.  
  
"You came in here and interupted my work," he states seriously. "I'm getting the whole story."  
  
"That was the whole story."  
  
"Bullshit. Start again."  
  
So I told him. I mean, this is Jalil. I tell him everything now. My gay crisis, about my parents, about suicide, drinking, sleeping with everything that moved, anything and everything. He judges me, don't think he doesn't. But he sees everything the way it is, without the coloring of feelings and emotions. The good thing (and the bad thing) about Jalil is that he can just lock all that shit away. But about David... I can't dump that on him. He's involved to a point, you know? So I tell him everything, except the identity of the person who has me even more fucked up than usual.  
  
Funny thing is, I don't feel any better.  
  
"Nice way to screw everything up," he notes.  
  
"I knew that." Duh. Thank you, Captain Obvious. You're supposed to be the smart one! You're my father confessor! Give me something to work with here!  
  
"Tell the person."  
  
"Are you insane?" Point blank. "That's just stupid."  
  
"What have you got to lose?"  
  
"My dignity. Pride. Self-respect. Etcetera."  
  
"Whatever."  
  
"Whatever? Whatever?!" Jalil said whatever. As a whole sentence. Mountains will crumble. Cities shall fall. April will elope with Nico and Jalil will go around saying 'dawg'. The world as we know it is ending!  
  
Breathe, Christopher. Breathe. And cut back on the coffee.  
  
"Some help you are."  
  
He shrugs and picks up his papers again.  
  
Grrr.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
This... sucks. O_o To quote Christopher, grrr. This fic is just not going where I want it to go. Double grr. *sigh* I'll try to get it back on track, but really, I can promise nothing. 


	3. April, Get off the Damn Soapbox

Whoa. Loads of reviews. Thank ya'll muchly. I'm glad you think I nailed Christopher's POV. He's so much fun to write! I can snark all I want! :P And Athena molesting Christopher... there's a reason besides comic relief, I promise. It plays in later in the story.  
  
Sadly, not much this chapter. April and Christopher talk.  
  
This chapter is for empty-corridors. Next one's for Duck-K.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter 3: April, Get Off the Damn Soapbox  
  
"You have to stop this, Christopher."  
  
"I know." I run a hand over the stubble on my chin. "Facial hair is not for me. I just have too much of a good boy look." And it kinda tickles too.  
  
"That's *not* what I was talking about." With a sigh strong enough to ruffle my hair, she reaches across the table to take the mug from my hand. "Stop drinking."  
  
"Why?"  
  
She blinks, taken aback by my tone of voice. Bet you didn't know I had that tone, did you April? That who-the-fuck-really-cares. You should know by now. Or know better, at least.  
  
"It's bad for you."  
  
"So's eating cheesecake."  
  
"Then stop doing that too."  
  
"Right." Don't even think about taking away my cheesecake. Sadist. And I'm not really all that drunk right now anyway. I can still walk in as straight a line as usual, which, admittedly, isn't perfectly straight, but it's not like I'm going to go hop in the car and mow someone over. A chariot, maybe, but the horses usually have sense enough to stay away from people...  
  
"... and you're not even listening to me."  
  
"You were talking?"  
  
All right, so I was asking for it.  
  
Wham. Right upside the head. No drama production fake either. I can feel my brains rattling around in there.  
  
"Christopher! I am being serious here! You. Cannot. Keep. Doing. This."  
  
"April..." It's not that I want to be more of a screw-up than I all ready am. And it's not that I even really like drinking. Certainly not the after-affects. But being sober means having your brain running on all its cylinders. Means seeing things clearly. And if I want to live in a clouded world, who the hell really cares?  
  
"... topher. Christopher!  
  
"Huh?" Whoa. April's face is right in from of mine. Eep. Scary eyes...  
  
"Would you please stop doing that? That... zoning out thing?" She looks almost scared. Of me? For me?  
  
"I'll try. You know me, I start to think, end up getting lost..."  
  
Some of the tension leaves her face and she sits back, away from me a little. "What is this all about anyway?"  
  
"Love. And what a bitch it is." Ooh. Funny thing about drinking. It makes you say a lot of things you mean but don't normally say.  
  
A breathy little laugh from April, a bit nervous sounding. "That's why you're drinking? Etain?"  
  
"No. Not Etain." I loved her. Yeah. The same way I loved my last four hundred girl friends. Except she was the only one who ever really refused me. Well, her and the witchy one. Off subject. Let's just say whatever I felt is in the past.  
  
"Not Etain?"  
  
"No. Not Etain." Very not Etain. So not Etain it isn't even funny. It's not a beautiful and enchanting elf maiden. It's my dark, broody housemate. My dark, broody housemate slash ex-rival with a hero fixation who is no less beautiful – dear lord did I just think that? – but seems to hate my guts. Or at least dislike them, and me, very much.  
  
"Then..."  
  
"Who? What? Why? When? Where? How?"  
  
"Something like that, yes."  
  
Who? Someone. Certainly not telling. What? Love. The kind that feels like it punched you in the gut. Why? Couldn't tell you. When? After Etain. Where? Here, I suppose. That one wasn't really so important. How? Can't tell you that one either. My brain just produced all the wrong chemicals, I guess. And it's driving me up a fucking wall and into the bottom of several bottles of dwarf wine. Circa 1288. A very good year, might I add.  
  
"I... Fuck, April. Have you ever been in love so much it hurts?"  
  
"No." Then a shrug. "I figure, one of these days, but I'd rather be with no one at all that someone whose wrong for me."  
  
Funny. I took the opposite road. I'd rather be with Ms/Mr. Neurotic, or Abusive, or Ditzy, or Needy, or whatever behavior malfunction they had than be alone.  
  
"I want them more than anything. So much that they're all I think about. So much that every time I see them my brain melts down. And my stomach jumps into my throat. I want him, but more... I want him to be happy. You know? If he would just smile... I love his smile." Then I wince. "If I get much more clichéd or sweet, hit me." But really? Yeah. I love David's smile. When he smiles. He doesn't a lot. I mean, I try to get him do. I'm the comic relief, remember? I make everyone around here smile. But somewhere along the way it became less of a job and more of a mission. Every time I see him I try. Sarcasm, slapstick, so-a-nymph-goes-into-a- tavern... anything I can. Yick.  
  
I need a drink.  
  
"But I like sweet," April protests. Yeah, I bet you do. You're probably holding out for your own Prince Charming. The ironic thing? She just might get one. Hell, she could end up married to a god over here.  
  
"It isn't... it's not sweet, April." If anything, we're heading into bittersweet territory. "It's actually kind of Spuffy."  
  
"Spuffy?"  
  
"Yeah. Spike and Buffy, you know? It's just like that. It's fucked up. It's messy. Too many issues. It won't ever fucking work, but it's the dream that just won't die. I want him so fucking bad. It's not meant to be, and deep down I think I know that, but I can't help wanting him." I mean, c'mon. Tell me you weren't rooting for the Slayer and everyone's favorite bleached vampire! Unless, of course, you were still holding off for Xander and Spike. Then I completely understand. But again, getting off my train of thought.  
  
All of a sudden April's jaw drops. "You said him."  
  
Oops. "Yeah. I did."  
  
"Oh. Okay. Just checking."  
  
"That's... okay with you?" Loaded question. And the tension swells...  
  
"Yeah. Kind of a good thing. For a minute there, I thought you were mooning over me."  
  
That makes me laugh. Not at her. I'm not that cruel. I was more laughing at the obvious relief on her face. "No, not you. Don't worry about that."  
  
"So... 'him', huh?"  
  
I hold up a hand. "Don't try to figure out who it is April. Save yourself a headache and me embarrassment." She looks at me with a mix of skepticism and reluctance, like she was really looking forward to guessing who it was. "Please?"  
  
"All right. But you have to promise me something."  
  
"What?" I don't like the evil gleam in those eyes. Closet sadist.  
  
"One drink a day," she says seriously. "Or I guess, you can roll them over if you want, like no drinks tomorrow and then two the next day. Seven drinks a week," she amends. "However you want to dish them out, that's up to you. But seven a week."  
  
I hate you sometimes April somethingorother O'Brien.  
  
"Fine. Seven drinks a week." What am I going to do with myself? That means... okay, we have a few courses of action open to me. One drink a day for seven days. Or seven drinks on one day. And then stoned cold sober for six days. Funny. I don't think I've been sober that many days in a row in... well, a long time. I just realized how close to an alcoholic I am. Hell, I probably am an alcoholic. Well. That's interesting.  
  
Hello. My name is Christopher. I'm an alcoholic who lives with a closet sadist, a chronically depressed love interest, and a man with no emotion depth at all but an IQ higher than Einstein. Oh, and dwarves live in the house next door, the demi-goddess of vengeance lives down the street, and I think there's something living under my bed. Seriously.  
  
"You did it again."  
  
"What?"  
  
"That zoning thing."  
  
"Sorry. I've got a lot going on right now." Hellooooo understatement. "The romance thing has never really gone too well for me, but this is beyond bad."  
  
"Why is it so bad?" she asks tentatively. "I mean, have you talked to him...?"  
  
"I slept with him." Let's keeps this crystal clear. And depressing. "And that's it. That's all he wanted. Maybe not even that. He seems to think it was a huge mistake. But I can't stop thinking about it. To me it wasn't a mistake." I keep on going on in vein and I might go shoot myself.  
  
"You're still in love with him?" She's looking up at me all teary- eyed again. If she says it's sweet, so help me...  
  
"Yes, I'm still in love with him. Love doesn't have an on/off switch. It's like..." Oh dear lord. This is so fucking ironic. "It's like drinking. Just when I've gone long enough without it – without *him* to think I've made some progress, just when I think that maybe what I felt was overrated... I get another taste. He says something, does something that makes me realize that nothing is better than him. How could I ever have thought about forgetting him? It's a goddamn obsession."  
  
"I was just going to tell you that you sounded a little kooky."  
  
"Yeah, well, wait until you fall. Fall so hard you hit the bottom and smash right through the floor." I sigh. "I love him and I shouldn't. I'm only going to get hurt more, living like this, but I love him. Have loved him, still love him, and will probably love him for the rest of my life. And you wanna know something really funny? It really is all about timing. I think... I think there's a point where it would have worked. A point where things were less confusing. A point where we were all a little less jaded, a little less damaged."  
  
"A little less drunk?"  
  
"Sure, that too." Off the soapbox April. I know you have no faults other than a guilty complex, but leave us lesser mortals alone for a while. "Possibility... sucks." The chances you never take suck. The chances you do take, and irrevocably fuck up, well, those suck even more. "Can I have my wine back? If I have to kick my obsession with alcohol, can I start tomorrow?" Right now I would really love to be shit-faced.  
  
She sighs. "Sure. I'll make sure to have a lot of coffee for you tomorrow."  
  
I take it all back. I love this girl.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
"Have that big pot of coffee you promised me?"  
  
"Right here."  
  
"Thank you, love you." Pause. "My torture starts today, hate you, burn in hell."  
  
"Mood swings?"  
  
"It's a symptom of withdrawal," I snap back. I'm not a morning person, my head is about to explode, I'm going through what can only be termed a shitty period, and now my drinking is restricted.  
  
"Chris, considering the amount of wine you drank, your system won't be clean for a week."  
  
Hmm. That's always possible.  
  
I sit at the table in silence and glare at the sun streaming in through the window. It's laughing at me, I swear.  
  
"By the way, how goes things on the war front?"  
  
"Quiet."  
  
"In a no news is good news kind of way, or in a we have no idea what Ka Anor is up to kind of way?"  
  
"Quiet like weird quiet. Quiet like tense quiet and afraid quiet. And Jalil heard that a few of the more minor gods have gone missing. None of the powerful ones. And for all we know they could just be hiding, but..."  
  
"Not good."  
  
"Yeah. Not good."  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
I haven't seen David in three days. I can't decide if it's a good thing or not. I mean, maybe the less I see him the better. But not seeing him during the day doesn't mean I won't see him at night, in my dreams. Doesn't mean I won't think of him anyway. Like I told April; he is becoming an obsession. I think... I think maybe I should leave here. At least for a little while. I don't want to, not really. But maybe it's time I stopped just sitting around here and actually get off my ass and do something. Stop being such a... nothing. Is this how I'm going to spend my life? Watching everyone else's? I mean... I left the Old World to make a difference here. To have a life. And now I'm just wasting away.  
  
I have to do something.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
Rae: No Christopher! Don't do anything stupid.  
  
Christopher: Shaddup.  
  
Rae: Meep. 'Kay.  
  
April: He's cranky 'cause I hid all the wine in David's pants.  
  
Christopher: And I'm not allowed in there. *pouts*  
  
Jalil: Let's not get started on that again. He'll shoot off on another introspective, five hundred word journey.  
  
Christopher: Shut up! You're all so mean to me! I can't help that my parent's were drunks! *runs off to sob alone in the corner*  
  
April: Damn mood swings. And general randomness.  
  
David: ......  
  
Rae: Don't you have something to say for yourself young man?  
  
David: ...who the hell are you?  
  
As you see, we have many issues to work out here. Another chapter in mebbe a week, it depends how stubborn David is. Next chapter's David-centric ya know *nods* M'kay... going now! Off to watch Dave the Barbarian!! (Buh-buh- barbarian!) 


	4. In Which Christopher Does Something

Look! It's Duck-K's chappie!  
  
Next one is for Totchii!  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter 4: In Which Christopher Does Something  
  
I went down to my normal spot last night. This little tavern across from the hippodrome, a place where anything goes. I mean, we're talking same sex couples, different specie couples, anything. I didn't go there to drink at all, because believe it or not I'm actually sticking to April's restrictions. I just went to pick someone up. Get David out of my head. Maybe bring home that blonde who could do those amazing things with her tongue. Or another guy I'd seen in there a few other times. Someone.  
  
But I didn't. And do you want to know why? Wish I could tell you. I don't know either.  
  
First off, I steered clear of every brunette in the place. I mean, I wasn't going to bring home anyone who even vaguely resembled David. And I also refused to make eye contact with anything that wasn't humanoid. Not to discriminate, but I'm not into tentacles. Or satyrs. Goats are quite a big turn off. And then I decided it was probably best to forgo guys all together. I didn't really need that right now. I actually tend to steer a little more towards females, actually, so it wasn't a bad thing. I wasn't in the mood for muscles. No, I was going to smother myself to death in a pair of huge boobs. Yep. Just what the doctor ordered. It was like going through denial all over again.  
  
Oh, I didn't tell you about that? It was fun, really. Woke up in a huge wet spot, images of naked Spike dancing through my head. I mean, you have to respect the bad boy vibe, but Willow and Tara were more my style. And now suddenly it was Xander and Spike. Both of them at the same time, even. And Angel liked to make guest appearances.  
  
So, yes, I was a little freaked out. Okay, a lot freaked out. I jumped out of bed and took a shower. For about an hour. And starting the very next day I began to chase after every skirt in school. And I liked that. Whew. Big breath of relief. I like girls, therefore I am not gay. Erm, no. Sorry Christopher, it doesn't work that way. Yeah, I liked girls. Funny thing about that. You can like girls AND guys. So the inevitable happened. Denial picked me up and threw me out. I ended up quite literally running into a guy turning the corner at FYE. Which was bad enough. Then he dropped the CD he was carrying, I handed it to him, and our fingers touched. And kept touching. And there was the freaky eye contact. And I blushed.  
  
Long story short, his name was Jason, we went and saw a movie, made out for an hour and a half. And that turned into a weekly thing. One night I called the house to tell my parents the movie had run late, and not to worry. They wouldn't really care if I was. It was more that they liked to think they had some control over me, some actual effect on my future by punishing me for breaking curfew. They didn't care. But I could pretend, right? But little bro informed me that both the parents were dead drunk and probably not waking up until next week, much less sometime tonight. I told Jason my parents were out of town. He asked me back to his apartment.  
  
Hmm. Funny how my short stories aren't so short. At any rate, I think you know what happened next. Contrary to what people believe, I'm not one to kiss and tell. Lemme just say Jason was a nice guy. Really cool. Taught me a lot of things. Mostly not to be embarrassed or ashamed of what I was. To not worry about what I was. I was Christopher. And that was a pretty cool thing to be. It didn't matter if I was gay or straight or bi or whatever. What I felt was what I felt.  
  
Sheesh, it's becoming a fucking epic. All right, here's the end. Seriously. Jason got accepted to a college about two states over. Two small states, but nonetheless quite a drive. Not a commitment either of us felt like working with. I liked him, he liked me, and if he'd stayed, yeah, maybe we could have had something deeper. But at that point we both felt we didn't have enough to do the long distance thing. So we did what had become our ritual. We went and saw a movie and made out in the back row, fooled around in the car on the way to his apartment, somehow, as always, managing not to mow down any pedestrians on the way. Made out on the couch. Followed up in the bedroom. Blew him in the shower the next morning, made cheese eggs and toast, said goodbye one final time.  
  
There were a few other guys after that. Couple of dates, couple of kisses, a grope or two. Then that stupid Senna-thing and all that followed. Then David. David, who was a one night thing but I *wanted* to be so much more...  
  
In an effort to make another long story short, here's how the rest of the evening went.  
  
Christopher takes a seat in corner. A girl with wings and white- blonde hair comes over and sits in Christopher's lap, presses her boobs onto his chest and practically in his face. Christopher is remarkably uninterested. Faerie-Girl takes brush off with good grace and goes to chase after a satyr. Asian looking boy with cool tattoo proceeds to hit on Christopher. Again, no interest. Christopher goes home, runs up to his room, and screams as loud as he can into his pillow.  
  
Great fun. Really. I was trying to avoid someone that looked like David, but they all reminded me of him somehow. The eyes. The smile. The twist of a hand. Except that only served to show me even more how they weren't him. Pieces of David. Maybe I'm paranoid. Maybe I *am* obsessed.  
  
It's a kooky kind of life right now. All of us running around, trying to pretend we're fine. Trying to pretend everything's normal. And it's not. I mean, there's no war. Not like a 'Vikings vs. Aztecs' kind of war. It's Ka Anor against the world. Except Ka Anor's still winning. Not too good for the morale, needless to say. Not to mention we're still adjusting from twentieth century to second century. Like I said. Life's at a bit of a low point. Could be worse. Could be better.  
  
And I've been thinking a lot lately. Been giving me a headache, but what the hell, right? David is Athena's General. That's an 'until you die' kind of job. Mostly because they tend to die young, I think, but I'm getting off-topic. Jalil is inventing anything and everything, and getting filthy rich in the process. The first few inventions he had to pawn off just to keep us safe, but now he's the Bill Gates of Everworld. He is, however, smart enough to know that history repeats itself. There are a few things he swears will never see the light of day. April doesn't really have a job. She can't. Woman's lib is a few thousand years behind schedule over here. But me... What the hell am I doing? What the hell am I *going* to do? I'm still the same drunk loser, in a different setting.  
  
Could go back to school. Become a soldier. Run a tavern. Hell, I could become a priest. There's a laugh. Know what I *have* thought about? Becoming like a playwright, or a writer. No, seriously! I mean, all these stories from the Old World... stories people here have never heard. It's kind of cheating, to make money off other people's work, but I promise, if I ever get back home, I'll give them their fair share of the royalties. I mean, just 'Friends' is a Greek tragedy waiting to happen. Change the coffee shop to a wine stand, change the names (i.e. Chandler to Chandlius, or something similarly Greek), and you've got a smash play! It's no 'Antigone', but I can swing it. And think about what I could do with 'Lord of the Rings'...  
  
I push open the door to the house and look around. Quiet in here. That's weird.  
  
"Christopher?"  
  
I turn around to find Nico standing in the doorway.  
  
"Hey Nico. What's up, where is everyone?"  
  
From the look on his face, whatever it is... it's not good.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
Evil cliffie. I know. And the chapter was short. Sorry. But the next chapter is *quite* long, and I didn't feel up to writing it all out. And yes, this chapter was supposed to be the David chapter, but Chris refused to shut up so NEXT chapter is David's chapter. Whew. Yeah.  
  
Jalil: Am I ever going to talk again?  
  
Rae: Shut up, you. You'll have a part when I say you have a part.  
  
Jalil: ......  
  
Rae: Oh fine. You have a part in the next chapter. You get to be semi- heroic too, if that makes you feel any better.  
  
Jalil: ... I'm ecstatic.  
  
Rae: Stop doing the Squall thing! Why are you doing the Squall thing?! Why are my other fandoms haunting me? *spies unfinished FF8 story on computer* Ah. That would explain it.  
  
Squall: ......  
  
Rae: What the hell are you doing here?  
  
Squall: ......  
  
Rae: Go snog Seifer or something.  
  
Squall: ......  
  
Rae: And start talking! That damn 'six period' thing is unnerving.  
  
Squall: .....  
  
Rae: Oh, that was witty. Don't think I didn't catch that.  
  
Sorry. Sugar and hormones run rampant. And plot bunnies! Don't forget the plot bunnies! 


	5. We Are All Idiots

This chapter is for Totchii. And you read Metamorous too? You liked it?! REALLY?! *begins to hyperventilate* Yay! I'm glad you liked it. I'm not really a Harry fan but... Harry/Draco is usually too much fun to pass up!  
  
Christopher is rambly and so am I. Apologies.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter 5: We Are All Idiots  
  
You ever seen pictures of the aftermath of a war? I say 'pictures' because I'm willing to bet you've never really been anywhere near a war. But maybe you have. I'm just saying, it's not something you can completely imagine. It's not clear cut and a bit detached, like something from TIME or snapshots of the mess that the atomic bomb made. The ones that are in black and white for dramatic effect, like rubble like that needs any emphasis. Because you don't just see it. You smell it, you hear it. You open your mouth, you taste the ashes on the wind. So depressing you feel like dying here with them. But that pretty much goes against the point, doesn't it?  
  
Dead horses. Dead bodies. Dead... things. Things I can't identify. Things maybe I couldn't even identify when they were alive. Small fires here and there, from where the Athenians were lighting their arrows. Except, of course, those Athenians are now dead, and there are more important things to do than worry about a little fire.  
  
People scurry here and there, looking for soldiers likely to survive. A couple thousand walked away. A thousand lie wounded. About half of them are going to die in the next hour. And another half by tomorrow.  
  
I can see why April's such a bleeding heart about this. See that guy right there? His arm's pretty mangled. They'll have to amputate it. Slash it right off with an ax. If he doesn't die from the shock he probably will from the blood loss. And if he somehow manages to survive that, there's always the chance of some other disease. Over in the Old World, he might not even lose that arm.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"It was supposed to be a sneak attack," Jalil said darkly. "Athena suspected there were spies, so the soldiers were geared up for a battle drill and then marched out. No information or forewarning given. She'd hoped we could at least get a head start before Ka Anor found out. And as you can see, they got past the city limits. Barely."  
  
"So they knew? Or where they just heading for the city?" Doesn't really matter. The end result is that it was a fucking slaughter. That's basically what you're telling me.  
  
"Don't know. Athena, Ares, and some of the other gods took what was left of Ka Anor's side prisoner. Whether they talk..." He shrugged. "Did April get to the safe spot?"  
  
"Nico said she took off like a bat out of hell when she heard the news."  
  
"Good."  
  
April's safe spot... Well, after the incident where she almost 'entertained' the Aztecs, we all learned to be a bit more careful with April. A bit more aware of her status. After all, she was a woman first over here, even in the more civilized societies. The possibility of Ka Anor attacking was always on the table. And he had humans with him. Mercenaries, rebel groups. People with nothing to lose. We made her promise that if there was every any kind of battle, any skirmish at all, to take a horse and head off to a little house a few miles away. Foot of the mountains. Frankly, if the city ever really fell, it would only be a matter of time until they went there too. But a delay is better than nothing. It would give her time to prepare. Jalil stocked the house with food, water. Poison. In case they came. It might be... smarter for her to have killed herself. Death would be inevitable, at that point, and far kinder that way.  
  
"I hate this."  
  
Jalil turns to look at me, raises an eyebrow. "You're supposed to."  
  
"I know. If you like this, then you're some sick, twisted fuck, right? But you know what? If it wasn't our side lying out there, I think I'd like it very, very much." If that was all Ka Anor carnage out there, I would be quite the happy little Christopher indeed.  
  
"That's normal too." He says it all so calmly, like he knows what I'm saying and what I'm feeling before I do. Hell, maybe he does. Because that is fucking Jalil, you know? He knows everything. David's running the army, but Jalil's running everything else.  
  
"Jalil, would you just for one fucking second pretend you're just as scared and fucked up over this as I am?" It would really help.  
  
"What's to pretend?"  
  
"Damn it, Jalil. Then act scared!"  
  
"I'd really rather not chance anything," he remarks dryly, his hands tightening and untightening unconsciously.  
  
OCD. It's gotta be a bitch. I mean... I can't pretend to understand. Can't even come close to understanding. I don't get the things and emotions that everyone else has, including me, so what the hell do I know about that? But I'm not completely stupid. I know it's why he won't let himself go. Ever. He's got this whacked up idea that if he controls everything else about himself, he'll control that too. It's stupid, and it's wrong, and the worst part is he knows it. But it's the way he's wired. And he knows that too.  
  
That's kinda how I feel about all this. This war, this fighting. We fight and fight but in the end we might have no other satisfaction other than knowing we didn't give up. And is it enough? Hell, I don't know. I don't even know where I'm going with this. Why are we doing this? We *can* fight him. We could. We might even be able to beat him, if we had everyone working together, everything going smoothly. But we don't and it isn't. But even I'm not going to say that we can just give up. I just wonder if we'll have anything to live for. Well, maybe not us. The only thing we've really got is each other, and thank god, we're still here. But everyone else in the world? This is the time of big families. Eight, ten kids. A mother sees her husband and nine kids march off to war. How many are going return? Not all of them. She couldn't possibly hope for that. Maybe a few. But certainly not all. And her brothers? Her sister's husbands, the husbands of her daughters even? Family means a lot here. And we're killing it off.  
  
But forget that. We won. This time, at least, we won. From the looks of things, we lost half the fucking troops, but we won. You have to cling to that. *I* have to cling to that. And next time will be different. By next time, Jalil will have better weapons designed. And more of them. Next time the tides will have turned. They have to. Because if they don't, we'll just be swept away. We can't stand much more of this. The supplies can't, our troops can't, our spirits can't. This is the point in the movie where the cavalry arrives, the guy who wasn't totally on your side before. Or some sort of miracle. But it's not that simple. You can't just write in miracles where you want them. And even in the movies, sometimes the bad guys win.  
  
Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. Fuck. Behold the depressed-ness of Christopher. Why do I do this to myself?  
  
"Where's David?" Eh, I was bound to ask sooner or later. I'm proud I lasted this long.  
  
"Talking with Corwin. Or at least he was."  
  
"Corwin?"  
  
"His second-in-command?"  
  
"Right. Knew that." And I did. I'm just having a brain frazzled moment. Shut up. "I'm going home. You coming?"  
  
"Nothing else to do."  
  
We both take in one last look of the battlefield. The bodies, the blood, the ashes. And I wonder why they bother at all sometimes. And I can pretty honestly say that's the shittiest feeling in the world. The 'why bother'. When you really mean it, not just as a flippant remark. When you truly, honestly, one hundred percent wonder why the hell you're bothering. When you can't think of a fucking reason. We're doing this to save ourselves, to save the free Everworld. But nothing is really slowing it down. And it seems like we aren't doing anything at all. We're trying to leave this world with a bang instead of a whimper, but I have a feeling the only thing we'll be hearing is Ka Anor laughing at us.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
"The battle... when was it?"  
  
"This morning." April throws a loaf of bread at me. I catch it less easily than I'd like to admit and set it on the table. Fricken hard crust. But I'm not complaining, on the off chance April baked it instead of bought it. I don't feel like being beaten up. "Couldn't have lasted very long."  
  
"Why didn't anyone in town know?" I spent the whole day wandering around, and I didn't hear a word.  
  
"It wasn't an attack on the city. It was supposed to be, but our troops met with Ka Anor's on our way to attack him."  
  
"Wrong time, wrong place kind of thing?" Or right time, wrong place... wrong time, right place... right time, right place?  
  
"I suppose."  
  
Great, now the woman's throwing apples at me. "Jesus, April. Hell of an arm."  
  
"Thanks. Volunteer summer camp with the kiddies. You'd be surprised what you can learn from junior high schoolers." She then turns and throws one at Jalil, who catches it with one hand. And very easily, at that. Damn him. Mr. Perfect. But I'm not going to ask, because he'll just give me that old 'eye on the ball', except in about five hundred more words than necessary.  
  
"Christ!"  
  
I jump about six feet in the air when a loud clanging noise echoes through the room. I turn around to find a very sheepish looking Nico.  
  
"Sorry. Dropped it," he says quietly, gesturing to where the top of the garbage pail lies on the floor.  
  
"S'okay. Just make sure to put it back on. Or April will have your head." The woman is a goddess, yes, and believe me when I say DO NOT cross a goddess. Especially in her kitchen.  
  
He nods and moves over to the oven, where April is stirring a large pot of something she plans to feed us.  
  
"Let me help."  
  
"No, Nico, it's all right."  
  
April refuses to let him do much of anything. Because of the whole slave thing again. What she doesn't get is that the kid just genuinely wants to help her. He has a bit of a crush, methinks. I'll just let them duke it out. Jalil's all ready immersed in another book, completely oblivious to the world.  
  
Sighing, I lean over and grab a slice of bread. Hmmm. Even the insides are crunchy. Still. Must taste better than it looks, right?  
  
Whooo boy, wrong! I swallow. And swallow again. And again. Damn it, it refuses to go down! And here I thought I had mastered the gag reflex...  
  
As inconspicuously as possible, I sneak over to the garbage, pick up the top, and spit. And then throw the rest of the slice away, all ready planning on how to get rid of the rest of the bread. I could pull a classic, I suppose. The old oh-so-sorry-my-drink-slipped. Even if she tried to make us eat it then, at least it wouldn't be so...  
  
What the hell?  
  
Bandages? Bloody bandages? What are they doing in the garbage? I mean, could be April (another ew), but she's usually a bit more discreet about these things...  
  
Okay, I CAN put two and two together you know. Battle. Haven't seen David since. And Nico's looking a little guilty, now that I think about it. I can come up with four, thankyouverymuch.  
  
"Hey Nico, can you come help me with something?"  
  
"Of course. Christopher."  
  
I notice the slight pause before he says my name. Still can't get over that 'master' thing, I guess. I feel sorry for the kid, you know? Another one of those things I don't think you could really imagine. Jalil says we can free him if we want (like we don't, and aren't going to), but not until he's 'of age'. I have no idea exactly when that is, but since he's twelve, I'm willing to bet it will be a few years at least.  
  
I walk out into the hallway, making sure to shut the doorway as I do.  
  
"Spill it."  
  
Nico raises an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"  
  
Ah. Slang. So confusing to the younger generation. "Talk, kiddo."  
  
"I don't understand - "  
  
"David, Nico. Tell me about David." He's looking guiltier and guiltier with every passing second. He knows.  
  
"He... he did want me to tell you he didn't want to be disturbed."  
  
"Nico."  
  
"Yes, Christopher?"  
  
"What's going on with David?"  
  
He avoids my gaze. "As I said, he doesn't want to be disturbed. He is tired."  
  
"Mhmmm. Okay, that I might believe. What was with those blood soaked rags you threw away?"  
  
"Master David was covered in blood from the battle."  
  
"His own blood?" Stubborn.  
  
"Others."  
  
"Then why was it fresh?" Battle was this morning. It's after sunset.  
  
Nico opens his mouth, shuts it, and then sighs. "He didn't want anyone to know."  
  
"To know...?"  
  
"That he was hurt."  
  
Christ, pulling teeth! I'm ready to slap the kid upside the head. But no. I can only do that with my own brother. "Nico, I don't care what David told you to say or not say. Tell me the truth. Now."  
  
"I..."  
  
"You won't get in trouble. Just tell me."  
  
"He... he was stabbed. Stabbed in the stomach."  
  
Deep breathes. Deep breathes because I am going to go kill him for being such an asshole. David, not Nico. Nico's just doing what David told him to do. David is being fucking retarded. "Is it bad?  
  
"Bad enough," he continues meekly.  
  
Okay. Okay. That's probably bad. Hell, that's probably really bad.  
  
"Go get Jalil. Tell him to come to David's room. Now."  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
David's lying face up on the bed, shirt off. And whoa, that would normally be something I would take advantage of, but normally David's ribcage isn't swathed in bandages. And I get the feeling he's not turning and tossing around because of a dream.  
  
"Chris? What are you -?" Jalil stops halfway through the door. "Shit."  
  
"Yeah. Shit."  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
"He must have had one of the healers stitch him up..."  
  
"They did a good job."  
  
"Is he unconscious?"  
  
I reach down the shakily place a hand on the gash on David's stomach. It's held together with about twenty stitches. Not like thread either. Wiry stuff. Eh, either way it looks nasty. And he hasn't woken up yet, so -  
  
"It feels hot," I say weakly.  
  
"It's infected."  
  
"What can we do?" April asks quietly. She shoos Nico out the door. "Should we send for a doctor?"  
  
"They don't know jack shit." Not here, anyway. Whoever sewed him up had the right idea, but everyone in the medical profession in Everworld is still in that leeches and 'cleansing the bad spirits' stage.  
  
"Christopher's right. They can't help us." Jalil starts to wrap David back up. "Send Nico to the market for laudanum as soon as it opens tomorrow. New bandages too."  
  
"He could probably get some now. Grease the right palms with a little gold, they'll open their shops..."  
  
"Do it now then," he continues ruthlessly. April nods and heads back out of David's room.  
  
"Is it bad?"  
  
"Could be worse. Didn't hit any organs."  
  
"How can you tell?"  
  
"He'd be dead by now."  
  
Note to self: Don't ask questions if you aren't going to like the answers.  
  
"What should we do?" Not like I can run down to the pharmacy and pick up some antibiotics...  
  
"Clean the wound every two hours. Gently. Any more than that and we'd hurt more than help him." Jalil moves briskly from one end of the bed to the other, placing the back of his hand on David's forehead. "He has a fever..."  
  
"I'll get some water and a cloth," April volunteers. I jump, not even having noticed she came back into the room, but Jalil nods and she walks quickly back out. I guess Nico is all ready in his way.  
  
There's that whole 'feeling completely useless' thing again.  
  
"Anything I can do?"  
  
Jalil turns around, some pithy remark all ready on his lips, but he refrains from saying it. Probably because I look so damn pitiful. I mean, I can't see myself, but if I look half as pitiful as I feel... lemme tell you, it's *damn* pitiful.  
  
"If you just stay here," he says quietly. "He won't know it, not consciously, but it may still help."  
  
"All right."  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
I didn't leave that room for three days. Three days of a high fever. Three days of David franticly tossing and turning. Three days of changing bandages and wetting clothes to place on his forehead and praying to whatever fucking god holds his fate in their hands. And it took me every minute of those three days to realize that maybe it wouldn't make a difference anyway.  
  
"He's going to die," I say quietly, far more calm than I really feel.  
  
Jalil is silent for a very long time.  
  
"Isn't he?"  
  
"Yeah," he whispers back hoarsely. "He might. The fever... it's probably caused brain damage. Been going on too long. So even if the wound does heal, even if the infection doesn't spread..."  
  
Jalil is about this far from breaking down. This far. Jalil. Jalil, man. That's when you know things are bad. I'm surprised I haven't cracked yet. Maybe because I have very studiously avoided thinking about it. Thinking about anything. David doesn't die. He doesn't. David does not equal dead. It doesn't... it doesn't make sense.  
  
"Anything we can do?"  
  
"April wants to go down to the Temple later," he says shortly. "Make an offering. I don't see what it will help."  
  
"What could it hurt Jalil?" It's not like were praying to someone that's not there, because they do exist. The problem's in whether they listen. "What kind of gods do we ask for help?" There has to be someone, right? These people made gods and goddess for the freaking sun and moon and death and prophecy and everything in between. There has to be one that can help us.  
  
"Little late for the war gods."  
  
"Can we ask the god of death to... not kill him, or something?"  
  
"They don't do that. Goes against pretty much everything they stand for. Besides. From what I remember the gods of death and the underworlds tend to be not so nice."  
  
Hel. Point taken.  
  
"Jalil... something..."  
  
He backs up towards the doorway. "I'll see. I don't know everything Chris. I wish to gods I did. But I don't." As the door creaks closed I think he might have whispered 'I'm sorry'. But maybe that was just me.  
  
I don't want him to die. In fact, I'd go so far as to say I'd do anything so he wouldn't die. But what choice do I have? What choice does anyone have, when it comes down to it? I can't help him. I don't know anyone who can. The only thing I can do is what I always do when it comes to David. Pray for a miracle.  
  
Right now, I wish I didn't love him. I never really wished that before, but now I do. Because if he dies... I won't be able to take it. I am a damn *fragile* person, all right? I can't have someone else I love just leave. I can't pretend that things will be all right without him. I don't want him to die!  
  
And at the same time, I don't want him to live like this. Because it's possible, it's entirely possible for him to slip into some sort of coma and never wake up. And I'll sit in here, day after day, only leaving when April manages to drag me out. I'll watch the wound on his stomach heal, but he still won't be all right. I'll sit here all the fucking time, hoping that he'll wake up. But maybe he won't. And maybe after awhile, after April and Jalil and everyone else has given up... maybe I'll give up on hoping too. Maybe I won't care any more. Maybe I'll leave him to this room, and move on to someone else. You know, I say that, but... I don't see it happening. I see everyone else moving up and out of here, away from this house and this phase of our lives, but I don't. I won't. It's a pretty tragic fucking story. But we do pretty well with angst.  
  
A lot of things are maybes. But I know one thing. If he would just open his fucking eyes, look at me, and *live*, I would be the happiest man alive.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
"Asclepius."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Asclepius," Jalil says again. "Greco-Roman god of healing."  
  
... did I hear that?  
  
"You serious?"  
  
"Dead serious. Better yet, alive serious."  
  
"Getting your ass down to the temple right now serious?"  
  
"That too." With an uncharacteristically wide grin Jalil slips back out the door.  
  
Life's looking up, baby. That miracle? I think we just found it.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
"April actually sacrificed a goat?"  
  
"Mhmm."  
  
"Wow." I turn to look at her. That's... big. Hmm. She does look a little green around the gills. "You okay?"  
  
"I'll be fine." She smiles weakly. "I just hope David is."  
  
Yeah. "So how exactly do we know if Asclepius answered our prayer?"  
  
"We don't," Jalil says sourly. "If David heals, our prayer is answered. If he dies, well, obviously he didn't."  
  
"That's cheap. If he lives Asclepius gets the credit. But if he... doesn't live, then we just didn't pray hard enough or make the right sacrifice?"  
  
"Pretty much."  
  
That's not depressing at all. "Romans are fiends."  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Not the best place to cut off, but there was no end in sight, honestly! The next chapter should be that last, unless my muses demand an epilogue or something, damn them.  
  
Jalil: That was me being heroic?  
  
Rae: Shush. We aren't going there now.  
  
David: You aren't really going to let me die, are you?  
  
Christopher: *begins to sniffle* You wouldn't do that to me and my wittle ittle Davey, would you?  
  
David: ......  
  
Rae: Um. Right.  
  
~  
  
Yes, yes. I am insane. Seifer/Zell slash is rotting my brain. Ooh! And it rhymed!  
  
Eh. Excuse the not-so-goodness. My chem teacher is out on med leave for the rest of the year, and the substitute we have for the next two months isn't exactly the most... shall we say, pleasant? Hopefully next chapter my good humor will be restored and Christopher will make sense and there will be much fluffiness! Or at least not an overwhelming sense of doom... 


	6. Wherein David May or May Not Die

* * *

Rae: Bad Chris. In this chapter he's quite the perv, not to mention a potty mouth.  
  
Christopher: Like our dear readers didn't know that all ready.  
  
David: .......  
  
Rae: What did I tell you about saying nothing?  
  
David: ......(I'm dying, remember? Jeez, cut me some effing slack...)  
  
Rae: Oh. Right. My bad.  
  
My apologies for parts that are slightly... not so good. I really wanted to get this last chapter out. I might end up going back and fixing or correcting things, but... here it is.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Wherein David May or May Not Die  
**  
A day later. And still no change.  
  
"Christopher, you need to eat something."  
  
"Just another minute, okay?"  
  
"Chris, I'm serious. You've been in here for way too long."  
  
Don't care.  
  
"David's... David..." April's voice begins to waver. She wants to say 'David's going to be okay' but she doesn't know that. And the more time passes, the less likely it seems.  
  
See why I can't leave? I can't leave him.  
  
After a moment April sniffles and shrugs. "I'll just... bring you up something."

* * *

The next visit was from Jalil.  
  
"April and I are going back down to the temple. Want to come with us this time?"  
  
I shake my head. "Someone needs to stay with him."  
  
"Nico can do that."  
  
"I don't want to go," I say simply.  
  
Jalil just nods and takes it at face value. "All right."  
  
"Hey Jalil?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Does Athena know? That he's sick?"  
  
"We sent a messenger. But she probably has her hands more than full right now."  
  
"Do you think... she could do anything about this?"  
  
"We'll see," he says softly, before turning and leaving.  
  
I mean, Athena's all right, I guess. Still creeps me a bit and makes my balls want to crawl all the way back into my body, but I don't think she's a bad person all and all. And David's her General. That has to count for something, doesn't it?

* * *

"Christopher..."  
  
"I don't want to leave, April."  
  
"Athena's here."

* * *

It's very unnerving to have a ten-foot tall goddess stare down at you. Especially if said goddess has felt you up. And may yet do so again.  
  
"My General is sick?"  
  
"Dying." The word almost won't come out. I don't like saying it. Dying. Dead. Death. You know, I kind of like the sound of death. Go on. Say it out loud. Not a bad sounding word, is it? Death. Dead is a bit brusque, and dying is just a regular old word. But death? Death. Death, death, death, death, death. I like it. The sound. Not the meaning. Christ, am I babbling. I haven't slept in... I don't know when.  
  
She frowns. "Dying? Why was I not informed?"  
  
"We sent a messenger. But what with the upheaval after the battle, I'm guessing you weren't 'informed'..."  
  
She nods. And waits.  
  
Oookay.  
  
"We wanted you to help us. Help us save him. Call on Asclepius. Please."  
  
"And why would I do that?"  
  
"He's your General! Doesn't that mean anything?"  
  
"I could always find a new one..."  
  
"He can't die!"  
  
"And why is that?"  
  
Because he's my friend. Because he's a good man. Because he survived what would have killed most people. Because it can't just end like this. Because I fucking love him.  
  
"Just... because! He can't!"  
  
She laughs. Laughs. A great big har-de-har. A belly laugh, which is more of a Viking thing that a Roman one. And I don't get it. Laughing? I mean, I laugh at the weirdest things and even I'm not seeing the connection.  
  
Then she comes out with a shocker. I mean, whoa. Wasn't expecting it in any way.  
  
"So you do fancy my Davidus, after all."  
  
The shit hits the fan. Both April and Jalil's eyebrows shoot straight for the ceiling, wondering where the hell that came from. And then they begin to work everything over in their heads. April remembers my drunken confession. Jalil remembers my not-so-drunken confession. They both remember my refusal to leave David's side, and they can put two and two together as well.  
  
I just stand there. Damage control is a bit out of reach right now. I could probably play it off. But why? I'm not going to lie about it. I won't shout it from the rooftops, but I won't lie.  
  
"Are you going to help us or not?" 'Cause if not I'm getting my ass down to the temple and slaughtering goats.  
  
"I will help."

* * *

"You sure he's coming?"  
  
"He is the son of my brother. He will come."  
  
Son of my brother... nephew? Yeah. Can none of the gods just say things instead of talking in riddles? Okay, so it wasn't that difficult. Still took me a minute. Brain isn't running on any of its limited cylinders.  
  
So. More pacing.

* * *

Okay, the pacing is boring. Five minutes of pacing is four minutes and fifty-nine seconds too much.  
  
Just as I'm about to open my big mouth and scream at the top of my lungs that the damn god better get his ass down here RIGHT NOW, there's a bright flash of light. A popping noise. And, on a purely aesthetic level, one hell of a good looking god. Pretty boy, almost. At any other time I'd probably be drooling. But not now. Though he is probably the real reason all those women were hanging around the temple the other day.  
  
"Athena." Gravelly voice. Very Russell Crowe.  
  
"Asclepius."  
  
Hmm, things are looking a little stressed in the Olympian family department. Could the names have been anymore monotone?  
  
"Where is he?" Asclepius turns to face us, and I am again dazzled with the great height that every immortal seems to enjoy.  
  
"In the room right behind you."  
  
Asclepius nods, and begins to enter David's bedroom.  
  
"Um," I pipe up uncertainly. "I know this sounds kind of weird, but could you just get rid of the fever and the infection? And leave the wound? Because... because I was thinking that it would be better if he never knew how close to dying he was. Just let him think he got knocked out for a few days because of the whole being stabbed in the stomach thing..." Maybe this is just typical insane-Christopher logic but -  
  
"I think that would be a good idea," April says quietly.  
  
Asclepius looks briefly towards Athena, who just shrugs as if to say 'Crazy mortals'. He nods again.  
  
The door shuts.

* * *

He's been in there for an hour. I feel like a father waiting for the arrival of his first baby. Not that I ever plan on having any rugrats of my own – good god, no. People like me shouldn't reproduce.  
  
But I should be feeling pretty good right now, right? I mean, David's going to be fine. Hell, that's the god of healing in there. That's gotta be worth something. Gods of death have remarkable accuracy, hopefully all the others do too. So. David's good. David's alive. All shall return to normal in Everworld. I'll go on drinking, he'll go on fighting, April will fuss and Jalil will continue to be a genius.  
  
And you know what? I really don't want that. I mean, I want David alive. But I want the rest to just stop. I want April to be brave enough to go outside, to take her life into her own fucking hands and find something else to center it on besides us. I want Jalil to let go of his control, for just one minute to let himself go and enjoy himself, even if it could turn out bad. I want David to stop blocking us all out, to stop pretending he's something more than human. And I want me to stop being so chickenshit and just tell him how I feel. But you know what? None of it is ever going to fucking happen. None of them will ever do it unless they're forced to. We're clinging to each other. Clinging to this house and the memories of the Old World, even as we're telling ourselves we're better off here. What is wrong with us? We're living half-and-half. I've got myself convinced that David can just be my friend, and I'll be okay with that. Yeah. Bullshit. Bull. Shit.  
  
I didn't want to, but I guess I have to. I have to tell him. Even though he isn't going to want to hear it and I don't want to say it, I have to do it. Time for the resolve-face. It's something I gotta do. Something maybe I should have done a long time ago. Bleh. Resolve sucks. Responsibility sucks. This sudden kamikaze urge sucks.  
  
The door swings open and Asclepius steps out.  
  
"He'll wake up on the morrow." He nodded once to each of us, once to Athena, and then promptly disappeared.  
  
"All about business, isn't he?"  
  
"As long as David's okay, I don't give a flying fuck." Maybe that was a bit too vehement. It gets me weird looks from everyone. But too fucking bad. They know now, don't they? So what does it matter?  
  
I push open the door and stride into the room. And David... looks...  
  
"He looks better."  
  
"Yeah. He does."

* * *

Almost dawn. Jalil, April, Nico, and I sit near the edge of David's bed, stubbornly ignoring the siren call of sleep. We all need this. We all need to make sure David's okay.  
  
He looks mildly annoyed as he wakes up. And – Christ, it's just David. Perfectly David. A pain in the ass from the minute he wakes up, the minute we pull him back from the brink of death.  
  
"What the hell is everyone doing in here?" he demands sleepily. He tries to sit up and falls back with a low groan.  
  
"I am sorry," Nico said softly. "But you were very sick, Master David."  
  
Stupid kid. He'd apologize for his own death, that one.  
  
I just leave the room. Because I will not fucking cry where anyone else can see me.

* * *

I flinch when April gently touches my shoulder. "You made me promise not to guess, so I won't. But I think I know."  
  
"Don't say anything. Please." I turn back to look at her. "I screwed up, April. I really screwed up this time. And I'm trying to fix it."  
  
"I know that." She tilts her head sideways. "Want to go talk to him?"  
  
"Yeah." Messy emotions back under control.

* * *

David looks up as I step into the room, walking over to sit gingerly on the end of the bed.  
  
So... "You okay?"  
  
"Been better." He beats a rhythm on the headboard with his fingers. "How long?"  
  
Mild panic attack. "How long what?"  
  
"Was I out?"  
  
Oh. "Four days. You were in and out – mostly out – but you probably don't remember."  
  
"Nope."  
  
Slightly too long pause.  
  
"You sure you're okay? You look a little out of it." You are not allowed a relapse!  
  
"Weird dream, that's all." He shrugs. "Just... really strange. I dreamt about the Old World."  
  
Something about the way he says it sends a shiver up my spine. "You ever regret it? Being here?"  
  
"No," he says simply. Not so slow that you know he lied, but not so quickly either. "I miss things, miss people. Sometimes, anyway. But I like here. Here's a pretty good place to be." Moment of that semi-awkward silence. "Why? You regret it?"  
  
"No." Never going to regret it.  
  
Another moment of silence and fidgeting. Then David pipes up again, more uncertain this time.  
  
"I don't know. I thought I would be happy here." That tapping becomes faster. "I'm one of the most powerful men in Everworld. The right hand of a goddess. Kind of like being the vice president, I guess, but with more power. Maybe like being Congress."  
  
"Or the president's wife." Or even the president, depending upon how whipped the president actually is.  
  
He chuckles darkly. "Yeah. That's it. The president's wife."  
  
"But what you're saying... is you're not happy." Hell, David. Anyone can see that.  
  
"That's what I'm saying."  
  
"So we've concluded you're rich AND powerful..."  
  
"But not happy."  
  
And truthfully, you look quite miserable right now. "You'll get it someday."  
  
"Think so?" Eep. There's the half smile. The really, really sexy one. Must not jump David's newly healed bones...  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"One way to look at it." Then there's the little lip curl, and he looks over at me and I smile in return. Nice little moment. Almost like everything between us is normal.  
  
Then I stand up, dust myself off, and the moment is broken. "April's coming up to force soup down your throat, so be prepared. Just a friendly warning."  
  
He makes a face. "Did she make it?"  
  
"I had Nico supervise." Again, not to slam April's cooking, and also, in her defense, all the green herbs do look pretty much alike... but still, dill is not basil, nor vice versa.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"No prob."

* * *

Okay. Three days after Asclepius comes to heal David, and he's stir crazy. We've had to seriously consider tying him to the bed. In a non- perverted way, mind you. I mean, the boy will just not get it through his thick skull! He keeps trying to sneak away and go to sword practice! Does he not understand he has a fucking stomach wound?!  
  
Bleh. Stubborn. He can walk around but not much more than that. He's going to get himself almost killed for the second time in a week. We're reverting back to our old odds. Not good.  
  
Time for a bath and then off to the Market. April wants...  
  
My train of thought comes to a complete and total halt once I walk into the bathroom. David. Naked. Naked David. In a bathtub. Naked David in a bathtub. Drool.  
  
Okay, I'm back. Neural areas are again functioning.  
  
Nak –  
  
No. No naked thoughts. Okay, I was inching towards it before this, but now I am definitely horny. Some god is having great fun at my expense with all these semi-naked encounters.  
  
"Uh, David?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
My gaze is permanently fixed on the spot just above and beyond the top of his head. And I've finally gotten a thought. A minor thought, but a thought nonetheless. I was sure David said he was taking a bath earlier...  
  
"Is there a reason you've been in the bath for an hour?" Perverted thoughts aside.  
  
Looks like the beginnings of a glare right there. "Maybe I like baths."  
  
"Right. Could it be that you're just too overtired to get up and out? And mayhap too stubborn to ask for help?"  
  
Yup, full-blown glare. Hit that one on the head.  
  
"Everyone needs help sometimes. Would it kill you to ask?"  
  
"I don't need help."  
  
"Sure you don't." There's a red stain where David's face used to be. Oh.  
  
"You know, if being naked's a problem, it isn't really a big deal." Death glare. "Technically not anything I haven't seen before." Even more glaring. "Besides, you're sick. Think of me as your doctor. Very professional." Heh. Playing doctor with David. How much more perverted can my mind get? Let's not give it a reason to go there.  
  
"Christopher. Leave. Now."  
  
Grr. "Fine. Leaving." And I would have, really, if I hadn't noticed something out of the corner of my eye. A snaking line of red in the bathwater. Not that I was specifically looking... Christopher, just shut up now.  
  
"David! Jesus! You're bleeding!" I whip back around and lean over the tub. Shit. His wound opened up...  
  
"It's not a big deal," he grits out, face even redder than before. I reach down and press on the cut, even now not being able to ignore how I can feel every rib under my fingers. Damn boy needs to eat. Blood seeps sluggishly around the edges of my fingers.  
  
"Of course it's a big deal!" I snap. "You almost fucking died! How is bleeding not a big deal?" Maybe telling Asclepius not to heal it was a bad idea... fucked that up too. Way to go, Christopher.  
  
David goes suddenly still, stopping his assault on keeping me away from him. "Almost died? What do you mean 'almost died'?"  
  
Shit. Mouth, meet brain. Never again say anything without the latter's previous approval. "You know. Battle. War. Death. Trauma. The fragility of human life in this whirling juxtaposition of a world."  
  
"Christopher..."  
  
"You almost died, David." My voice lowers and I realize how dangerously close my emotions are to the surface. "Died. The big one."  
  
He just stares at me, and all of a sudden I am very, very aware of my hand on his stomach. I jerk it away as if he's burning me. My palm is red. Red with David's blood.  
  
"Chris..."  
  
I don't want to hear it.

* * *

These are the times I really like my room. The window overlooks the garden we have in back, instead of the busy streets or just the side of another house. It's... quiet. Calm. Serene, tranquil? Those the words? I wasn't Mr. SAT, in case you haven't guessed, so I'm pretty much blowing this out my ass. It's very _serenquil_.  
  
"Christopher?"  
  
"Go away David." I'm not sure exactly how he got out of the bath, but I'll puzzle it out later. Probably sheer obstinacy. Hah. Points for vocab.  
  
"I just..."  
  
I turn around and glare at him. "Leave me. Alone." Oh great. I am treated to a wet, shirtless David. Why do these things always happen to me when I'm miserable and totally unable to enjoy them?  
  
"Christopher..." He pauses, standing uncertainly in the doorway. "Chris, are you crying?"  
  
"Yes!" I shout. "Yes, I'm crying. Is that what you wanted to hear?" Crying for the second time in four days. Christ. Leave me to my own fucking misery.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"What part of 'you almost fucking died' did you not understand?"  
  
"I just... I didn't think..."  
  
"Didn't think what?"  
  
"... that you cared."  
  
"That I cared? That I cared?!" I repeat shrilly, turning around to stare at him because just _how_ fucking _stupid _can one guy be? "I don't care! That's why I'm scared shitless at the thought of losing you! That's why I dragged the truth out of Nico! That's why I had Jalil patch your skinny ass up! That's why I sat by your bed for four days straight, and that's why I changed your bandages and washed your wounds while trying not to fucking puke! I called down a fucking god to make sure you didn't die! Because I don't fucking care! I don't care so much I think I'm in love with you!"  
  
And _now_ my mind catches up with my mouth. Shit. Those aren't the type of things you just blurt out unless you want...  
  
David to kiss you. David to kiss you? David to kiss me! David to kiss me? David's kissing me!  
  
Whoaaaaakay. Let's take a step back and look at the important stuff:  
  
David's kissing me.  
  
...  
  
You were expecting more?  
  
But this is nice. Really nice. If by nice I mean absolutely mind- blowing. If nice makes me want a whole hell of a lot more. If nice is something that makes me really, really horny.  
  
"David..."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"You're bleeding all over me."  
  
"Oh. Sorry?"  
  
"S'okay. Let's just get you back to bed, all right?" Why oh why oh why me? Lemme get you back to bed David, and since you're bleeding all over the place and I can't fuck you into next week, I'll just suck you off until you scream. Ah. No. Bad thoughts. Baaaaad thoughts. Neither the place nor the time for those thoughts. Very unwanted right now. I mean, wanted but _un_wanted. Mental-David, get some clothes on RIGHT NOW, and if you so much as blink lasciviously, I'll... put you in a room with Mental-Senna. Ouch. That's harsh. Sorry. Oh, but more points for using 'lasciviously'!  
  
I walk David down the hall, trying to not think of where my hands are (on his shoulder and around his waist), where his hand is (around my waist), and where we're heading (his bedroom). Obviously, I didn't do a very good job. But I did manage to get him to the bed without further molestation, so points in the restraint department.  
  
Let's have another recap. Quintessential one night stand, ignore, ignore, ignore, David almost dies, save David, blurt out that I love David, David kisses me. Yup. That's it. WTE, baby. WTE.  
  
David settles back onto the bed, scooting up against the pillows and trying to control a wince.  
  
I look at his stomach – his stomach _wound_. Cough. Anyway. It isn't bleeding anymore, just looks all inflamed and infected and all those other lovely medical words.  
  
"I'm going to put a new bandage on, okay?"  
  
"Yeah. Thanks."  
  
I carefully spread the ointment over the wound, trying to ignore the fact that I am touching David, that I am touching David's stomach, and holy hell but does he have a nice six pack. Not thinking about that at all. Jesus! I'm just going to jump him right now and make this a one night and one day stand...  
  
"Did you mean it?"  
  
"Mean what?" Is he reading my mind now?  
  
"That... you love me."  
  
Oh. "Yeah. I meant it."  
  
And he goes silent. Again. Talk, before I beat it out of you. Kiss you. Tickle you mercilessly. Mwahaha, fear me!  
  
Is it just me or has the adrenaline rush gone to my head?  
  
"You don't have to say it back, you know." It'd be nice, but you don't have to. "I'd rather you not say it than say it and not mean it."  
  
He grabs hold of my wrist, forcing me to stop staring at his stomach and move up to his face. "I'm... sorry."  
  
"For what?" Certainly looks sorry. Aw, apologetic David. Definitely something I've never seen before...  
  
"I want to say it," he says bluntly. "But I... I just... I thought I loved Senna, okay? Maybe I did. And I don't... I don't want that again."  
  
"Somehow I doubt I'll use you to take over the world. And thanks for comparing me to the megalomaniac bitch."  
  
"Chris, that's not – "  
  
"What you meant. I know. I'm just saying. I've been in love with you this long and I haven't pulled anything. What the hell would I possibly pull? And that whole 'I just want you to be happy' line... that's true. I just want you to be happy. Thing is David, you're _not_. You're fucking miserable. You don't sleep and you barely eat and... when was the last time you smiled? All you do is work and sit in the War Room." You think no one notices that? There's always an empty chair at the table. April always ends up cooking too much for dinner because you're never there. Nico doesn't make your bed most days because you haven't slept in it. Jalil – Jalil notices everything. He misses you too. He'll never say it, because that's Jalil, but he misses you. And me? I know everything about you. Every time you've even let me get a glimpse of the real you, I memorized it. I know stupid things, like that you love chocolate and your favorite season is spring. I know sexy things, like the spot right near your collarbone. That your laugh is the most beautiful thing in the world. And I know that you have to play the hero because you think that maybe then you could save yourself. Couldn't you let me save you? You don't have to be the damsel in distress, I just mean... Fuck, I don't know what I mean.  
  
I shake my head. "Never mind." Screw it. "Can you sit up? Have to wrap the bandage around."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
More silence. Nothing to say, or maybe we've got things to say but no way to say them. I don't know. There's a lot of 'not knowing' going around lately.  
  
As I wrap the bandage around him, I feel David's hipbone slide under my fingertips and inhale quickly. Very quickly. Deeeeeep breaths. Christopher-thine-eyes-shall-stray-no-farther...  
  
Oh, hell no. I will not do this while he is lying sick in bed! Resolutely, I shift my gaze back up to his face. Only to find David grinning at me slyly.  
  
"You tease," I sputter. "I don't believe you!" Oh, but that was smooth. Evil, but smooth.  
  
"It's not teasing if you plan on following through." Oh. Dear. Lord. That look is devastating enough when you're drunk. When you're sober, it's damn near fatal. Have gone from depressed to incredibly horny in two point five seconds.  
  
"David..." I shake my head, concentrating on tying the knot up. Heh. Pretty good first aid for someone as uncoordinated as me.  
  
"I don't wanna mess it up this time." This time? So I do get another time? Another chance?  
  
"Okay, but you don't have to kill yourself to prove it. All right?" Shit, that's the last thing I need.  
  
"I'm in love with you."  
  
I freeze. The roll of bandages falls to the floor but I can't bring myself to care. This is right up there with being pulled into Everworld on the shock factor scale. "David?"  
  
"I just thought... I wanted to tell you. I mean, since apparently I almost died, figured now's a good time."  
  
"But you said..."  
  
"I didn't. Or I thought I didn't. But I know I can't stop thinking about you. And I know I feel more for you than I ever did for Senna. I never said it to her. Said a lot of things, but not that. So... I had to say it. Because it's true." I see his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows. "I love you." He glances down at where our fingers are now entwined, eyelashes so long they're almost girly. Girly yet macho David. He's a walking contradiction.  
  
"Chris?"  
  
Eep. Sorry. Zoned and was walking in the land of the androgynous. Wonder how David would look in a dress...  
  
"I love you, too."  
  
He smiles. "I know."  
  
"Oh, so now you're Jalil."  
  
"No, you just said it before. That's all. And isn't this the part where we have incredibly hot monkey sex besides?"  
  
Besides the extra shock factor of hearing David say 'hot monkey sex', there's the look again. Deep breaths. Deep, deep breaths. And imagine cold water. Lots of cold water. My father. My father and my mother. My father AND my mother. Ew. Okay. I have regained control.  
  
"It would be if you weren't bleeding all over the place. Did you forget that part?"  
  
A pout. Why is every look so damn sexy? Breathe. Breathe.  
  
"So... are you going to kiss me again, at least?"  
  
How am I supposed to resist that?! Am I a saint? Am I a priest? Did I take a vow of chastity? Did I ever even contemplate taking a vow of chastity? Noooooo! OF COURSE I'M GOING TO KISS HIM!  
  
Shit, he's still so weak though. Sick. As I've said before, I cannot jump his newly healed bones. So I just sort of brush my lips over his.  
  
David giggles. _Giggles_. Ohmygod. Brain meltdown.  
  
"I know you can kiss better than that."  
  
Hell yeah. Sounds like a go-ahead to me.  
  
As far as kisses go, technique was a little lacking. Just smashing your lips on the other person's is not the best idea. But damn it felt good. I mean, every time I see David it's a battle to not rush over and kiss him senseless. So now that I get to finally indulge, he's lucky I didn't smother him.  
  
Oh, I should so not be doing this.  
  
"Chris..."  
  
But I am anyway.  
  
Fuck. David's hand comes up to rest on my cheek, and the other twists in my shirt. His mouth opens slightly, panting for air, and no one could possibly blame me for taking that chance. No one could possibly blame me for shoving my tongue down his throat, or laying down on the bed next to him. Carefully, _very_ carefully, making sure I don't hurt David in the process. He starts to shift over but I wrap my arm around his waist and pull him closer to me. I'm a clingy kind of guy, I admit it. A kiss is not just lips. A kiss is lips and hands and bodies next to each other. I missed this closeness. More specifically, I missed David. And he's let me get this close. So I'll never let him go.  
  
My hands tangle in the messy locks he calls his hair, which April is always insisting he needs to cut. I'll kill her if she ever does. Let David keep his Viggo hair. He's a lot friggen sexier...  
  
I pull back with a small sigh, knowing I've got to stop now or there will be no stopping at all. When I look down at David, I see the face I missed out on. Swollen and reddened lips, lidded eyes... of course that could be because he's falling asleep.  
  
"What an impression I must have made."  
  
"Sorry. M'tired..."  
  
Well Jesus, look that fricken cute when you say it and I'll forgive you anything. Why do I get the feeling he's going to have me wrapped around his finger? That's it. He simply had to be a girl in another life...  
  
And so the macking session draws to a close. David tires out easily, even if he doesn't want to admit it. Why he got stuck in the bathtub in the first place, remember?  
  
"Go back to sleep. I'll go take a shower. A cold shower."  
  
Drowsy laughter. "Sorry. I'll make it up to you later." He leans over and brushes his lips up against mine and fuck but it's so _sweet_ I half expect flowers to start sprouting all by themselves any minute now. And little faeries to start flitting around and playing with furry woodland creatures. With Enya playing in the background. I want to hold this moment forever, unbelievable sappiness and all. If anyone dares to even think about taking this away from me, I will kill them. Mostly when shit doesn't go my way it's my own fault. Messing stuff up for myself I can deal with. But if anyone else messes this up, I'm calling on any and every god, goddess, king, witch, or wizard I know and beating the shit out of them. Maybe have Jalil reinvent the Uzi...  
  
That's love, right there. The willingness to go on a killing spree.  
  
I watch David's eyes flutter closed and his breathing slow and even out. And once he's asleep I realize he's lying on my arm and curled up on my chest. Not very conducive to moving.  
  
I mean, it's not too sappy to just look at him while he sleeps, is it? And he seems to be drooling on my shirt. Is that more embarrassing for me or for him? Because personally, I find it pretty damn cute on his part. Which is rather embarrassing.  
  
Damn the sappiness. Damn the fluff and all the tingly feelings I'm getting. If I had known love was going to turn me into such a pansy I –  
  
David scoots a little closer towards me and mumbles something unintelligible. One hand comes up to curl in the front of my shirt and I practically feel my heart melting beneath it. Gah. Cue Enya. I'm a pansy. I'm a complete girly-man who is head over heels in love.  
  
I can only pray it'll wear off a bit once we get to the whole 'incredibly hot monkey sex' thing. And also hoping I don't roll over on top of David during the night and squish him. No getting on top of him until he's healthy enough not to be squished. Why oh why oh why did I not let Asclepius heal him all the way? If he'd hurt his foot or something we could totally work around that. But not the stomach. Damn it. The bendy middle part is so important...

* * *

"From the way you and David looked earlier, I'd say you did something right."  
  
"Shh. No one must speak of this. No one can jinx it. He is right where I want him right now. Breathing. No one screws that up!"  
  
"Chris, you're scaring people."  
  
"You're the only one in the room."  
  
"Correction: Chris, you're scaring me."  
  
"Does this look like the face of someone who cares?"  
  
April begins to smirk. "Looks like face of someone who just blew their boyfriend."  
  
"Not yet, no." Give me time. "We threw in some massive face sucking, that was it." Waitasecond. I wasn't going to talk about this. Damn April for looking so innocent and trustworthy. "How do you do that?"  
  
The smirk grows wider. "It's a gift."  
  
"Just don't teach David." That's all I need. The come-fuck-me pout and the you-can-tell-me-anything look. Why don't I go write down all my deep, dark secrets and sign it in blood right now?  
  
"Is he okay?"  
  
"What? Yeah, he's good. The wound opened up this morning, but I bandaged it again."  
  
"And how did his wound open up?"  
  
"Jesus, mind out of the gutter. Walking around today just proved to be a bit too much for him, all right?"  
  
April steps back and looks at me critically. "Chris..."  
  
"What?" Please, let there be no more drool on my forehead...  
  
"Be good to him, all right?"  
  
"Like you have to tell me that," I grumble. "He's the one who's going to run over me. Workaholic. I'm playing second fiddle to sweaty men with swords. And when I say it that way, I realize _why_ I am playing second fiddle."  
  
April grins. "I think David can be enticed to stay home a little more." The look on her face leaves little to the imagination.  
  
"When _did_ you get so perverted?"  
  
"I think it was the Vikings. A rather earthy people."  
  
"Now all we need is to find you a man."  
  
She begins to blush. "About that..."  
  
"Uh, April? You _do_ want a _man_, right?" When did April start batting for the other team?  
  
"Yes, I want a man!" she shrieks. "I didn't mean..." She makes a huffing noise and glares at me. "I was trying to say I all ready 'had a man'."  
  
"Who?" How did I miss this? I have to meet him! Give him the shovel talk! Crap, random thought... "It's not Jalil, is it?"  
  
"Uh, no. It's... Nico."  
  
"You're dating our twelve-year-old servant?!"  
  
"He's sixteen!" she shoots back hotly. And then blushes. "It is kind of pervy, isn't it?"  
  
"No, I was just kidding." I did think he was twelve though. Guess he just has a baby face. Though now that I think about it, he would be a bit tall for a twelve-year-old... Still. "Shit, April, even I knew he had a crush on you. From like day one." I start to grin like a madman. "And you guys looks so cuuuuuute together!"  
  
"I knew I shouldn't have told you."  
  
"I'm happy for you. Really. Once David can actually move again, we can double date!"  
  
"I knew I shouldn't have told you."

* * *

Hmm. Bread, stale bread, or really moldy bread. What a choice of a midnight snack. I'm deliberating between actually eating any of it or giving it to Jalil to test as radioactive waste when I feel a hand on my shoulder.  
  
"What the-?!"  
  
"Don't I get a 'welcome home' kiss?"  
  
David. Holy fuck. "You just scared the shit out of me. No, you do not get a welcome home kiss." You're lucky I didn't die of a heart attack. I didn't even hear you!  
  
David sighs. "How about a 'your boyfriend has a huge surprise for you' kiss?"  
  
Okay, I'm intrigued. You're forgiven. "What's the surprise?"  
  
"Kiss first."  
  
Peck. "What's the surprise?"  
  
"Real kiss."  
  
I narrow my eyes. "Particular, aren't we?" David just grins in response. I sigh. "Fine." I close my eyes and lean forward, then let out an all too girly squeal when David pushes me up against the wall. "David, what the fuck...?!"  
  
Oh, that's definitely a real kiss. My eyelids slide back shut and my hands wrap around his neck, pulling him closer towards me. Shit, I've missed him. I hate these month-long campaigns. Battle after battle after battle, and every one is another chance for him to die. As he leans in for another kiss I absently trace the scar on his cheekbone. Another wound that came a little too close. Hell, came a lot too close. My stupid soldier boy.  
  
"Missed you so damn much," he groans.  
  
"You better have," I shoot back. I've been fucking miserable without you. "Jesus David, wear less clothes when you come home next time, all right?" Friggin shirt. Too many buttons.  
  
Somehow or another I finally get him undressed. And find a new scar on his shoulder.  
  
"David..." I reach out to trace it, feeling the ridges underneath my fingers. "Christ..." Why do you do this? Why do you always have to dance with death?  
  
"It didn't even hurt," he insists. "Just a scrape."  
  
"Goddamn it, David." Another desperate, searing kiss. "Don't you dare die on me."  
  
"I won't," he promises. He always keeps his promises, you know that? He's hasn't broken one. Not even a little one. I love that about him.  
  
But I also love this little spot right here. Because if you bite at it very gently, just like so...  
  
"Christopher!"  
  
"Be quiet," I scold him. "Don't wake up April and Nico." Heh. And I still love teasing him as much as ever. But I guess David's tired of just hanging along for the ride. He's got that dangerous glint in his eyes and oh –  
  
I yelp. "David!"  
  
"Be quiet. Don't wake up April and Nico."  
  
I feel fumbling hands at my tie on my pants and waste no time in helping David take them off.  
  
"David, please..." I hate begging. Grr. Why am I constantly reduced to begging?  
  
Oh. Oh, yeah. That's why.  
  
"David..."  
  
"Chris," he murmurs. "Baby..."  
  
"I need..."  
  
"I know."  
  
You know? What the hell do you kn–  
  
Oh fuck. I bury my face into his neck and try desperately not to scream. That actually works quite nicely.

* * *

"You realize we just did it on the kitchen table?"  
  
"I'm going to have to skip breakfast tomorrow. I'll never be able to look April in the face."  
  
"Don't see how you're going to be able to do that anyway. Considering how much noise you just made."  
  
"Like you were any quieter."

* * *

"So... what was the surprise?"  
  
"I quit."  
  
Moment of silence as Christopher's brain, foggy with sex and lack of sleep, tries to wrap around the sentence 'I quit'.  
  
"Your job?" Being the General?  
  
"Mhmm."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Uh huh. Thought that was what you wanted."  
  
Shit, now he's annoyed. Which means that underneath that he's really hurt.  
  
"I did. I do. I just... wow. I didn't think you would." Ever. With that stupid hero-complex he has. I've wanted him to stop forever. It's too draining, too dangerous, and it keeps him away from me for far too long. Honestly, you cannot expect a twenty-year old boy with a boyfriend to go longer than two days without sex. It's just not right. And hey! Now it'll never happen again! I ruffle my hands through David's hair, ignoring his cry of protest. "Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome baby."  
  
"And stop calling me 'baby'."  
  
"Why? I like it."  
  
"I don't." Damn it. The pout. Not the pout. Christ, there has to be some sort of limit on how many times and exactly when he can use that. It's a dangerous weapon! "Fine. I don't care."  
  
"Thank you." Brush of lips against my neck. "Baby."  
  
A growl rises up from my chest. "Let's limit its usage." To, say, once a year.  
  
"All right, all right." He lifts his head off my chest and looks up and around. "Think we should move before someone comes out and sees us?" Huh. It is almost dawn.  
  
"Sure. I think we traumatized Jalil last time." Like he hadn't seen naked guys before. Although maybe not in that position...  
  
"Race you to the bedroom."  
  
"For?" Ah, betting. Another one of my many, many vices.  
  
"That thing we were talking about last week?"  
  
That grabs my attention. "Yeah."  
  
"You win, I'll do it."  
  
I worship at the shrine of David. So glad he understands my kinkiness. "And if you win?"  
  
"You go with me to Athena's banquet next week."  
  
Oh, hell no. That's enough to make me not want to have sex for a week. "A-Athena's banquet?" And damn my voice for cracking.  
  
"Mhhmmm."  
  
"David..." Risky. So very risky.  
  
"C'mon," he murmurs. Gah. Sex voice. The pout, and the sex voice. "Don't you want to see me in a dress?"  
  
Sex voice. Pout. David in a dress.  
  
"Okay. Bet. Deal. Whatever."  
  
"Oh, good."  
  
And then he's off and running.  
  
"Fuck! David, not fair!"  
  
His laughter echoes all the way down the hallway, and I get the sinking feeling I'm going to Athena's banquet.  
  
I am _definitely_ making him wear the damned dress.

* * *

Think I might have made Chris a little dense and David a little OC. And the David in a dress thing? I don't know. shrugs Just went with it. But still - yay for our schmoopy, slashy couple! 


End file.
